A Song of Despair
by losingpearls
Summary: He sneered down at her, "You disgust me. Everything has been handed to you on a silver spoon your whole life, yet you seem to not want any of it. Don't you see how fortunate you are? How you have everything? To throw it away without thought is disgraceful!"
1. Here We Begin

**I do not own any of the recognizable characters in this story. They are the property of J.K Rowling, bless her. As for the characters you _don't_ recognize, well they're mine, _bless them. _Any other works such as song lyrics, poems, titles, etc. used are not mine either. They belong to their rightful owners whose names are too plentiful to name. (Also cause I'm too lazy to keep track.)**

* * *

_A Song of Despair_

**PROLOGUE**

"_Where lies the final harbour, whence we unmoor no more? In what rapt ether sails the world, of which the weariest will never weary? Where is the foundling's father hidden? Our souls are like those orphans whose unwedded mothers die in bearing them: the secret of our paternity lies in their grave, and we must there to learn it."_

_Moby-Dick by Herman Melville_

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE**

June 12 1944

Hogwarts was beautiful, even at night. The Scottish country side was quiet and the stars shone bright with the lack of clouds in the beginning of the summer. That was something Jude always missed when she had to return home every summer. The glaring city lights of London always outshone the stars and she was hard pressed to see them before September 1st. Even now in times of war, when the city went dark to hide from the _Luftwaffe_ and the stars had a chance to shine, she was not permitted to go outside to see them. So as she stood on at the edge of the astronomy tower with a warm breeze tickling her hair, she looked to the winking lights.

The school year was coming to a close; having just finished her first year of N.E.W.T.S, Jude contemplated the summer that lay before her.

Roger, her best mate of 10 years, was going to Brazil for the two months of summer vacation and would be unavailable as a means of escape from her father. Not caring much for the other acquaintances she had as they did her, she saw no prospects of a making of a wonderful vacation and could already feel the dread seeping into her pores. Her father would be home more, potentially all the time, just as he told her at the end of the previous summer when he decided to work from home.

Jude imagined the next two months confined in that large, cold, empty house with only her father for company and shuddered. She looked down from the stars and stared at the dark ground that lay below her. A brief image of her fallen body lying on the warm grass with her dark hair splayed out around her head flashed through her mind. It was that temptation of standing at the edge of the world and taking the last step… it would only take one step, one daring step to end-

"Miss Heathrow." The image of her dead body almost became a reality as a smooth voice behind her caused a fright that would have ended quite tragically if it hadn't been for the safety railing she clung on to. Turning about to the voice, Jude came face to face with one of the Slytherin prefects patrolling the Hogwarts halls. "You are breaking curfew."

"Sorry, I-sorry..." Jude stuttered. She made for the door behind the prefect, lifting her eyes to his tall figure just as she passed him.

From what she could see in the poor lighting of the astronomy tower, he had icy grey eyes that watched her hurried shuffling with rebuke along with high cheek bones, and a straight nose. He was what most would call a handsome young man. But as she thought about it more, she came to realize the prefect that had caught her was in fact, Tom Riddle. Jude had only heard of him in passing from various students, well, various girls, whom seemed to always be giggling every time they talked about the boy. From what she gathered he was known to have the top grades in school and was favoured by almost all the teachers. Apparently he had been graced with good looks by Merlin himself going by what they said. Seeing it for herself, he was alright, she thought.

Jude shook her head as if to clear her thoughts. Why was she even thinking about this right now? She had to get back to her dorm before she could get reprimanded again or worse get caught by Peeves. She looked up and to her amazement she was already in front of the Gryffindor secret entrance. It seemed she had walked there unconsciously in the last few minutes. Mumbling the Gryffindor house password to the sleeping portrait of the Fat Lady, she quietly went up to her room and readied herself for sleep.

Lying in bed with the curtains drawn back so she had a view of the stars outside her window, Jude's last thought before sleep consumed her was what the times that lay ahead would bring.

* * *

When Jude was young, her mother would take her into the bustling streets of London every Wednesday. She could always be assured that by 10AM they would be sitting on the table by the window of _The Grosvenor Hotel's_ _La Grande Salle_ restaurant, where she would wait patiently for her mother's friends to arrive while sneaking Jammie Dodgers under the table.

Sitting in a table full of older women while you were only seven was a fairy tale of sorts. They would always be talking about what the latest fashion trend was – although this was not important to Jude at the time as to her anyone who dressed as a princess was beautiful enough – and what latest mishap they had since they last saw each other. But as much as Jude loved going to these brunches with her mother, she sometimes wished for someone who just wanted to play instead of just talk with each other. One day her wish was granted.

On a rare sunny November Wednesday, she sat on a too big chair trying to sneak her third Jammie Dodger while her mother conversed with a couple sitting the next table over. She had finally gotten a biscuit and was smiling in triumphant when she heard the loud fusing of one of her mother's friends.

Mrs. Langley was beautiful in her own way. One would have to know her before one could see that her beauty was not of the physical kind – though she tried with various layers of makeup – but one of the heart. She had the patience needed of a mother and the kindness of an innocent child. In short, of all of her mother's friends, Mrs. Langley was Jude's favourite. On this rare sunny Wednesday, she brought along her son.

Blushing from behind his mother's skirt was a young Roger Langley, a boy of six years with soft honey blond curls and light blue eyes. He wouldn't let go of his mother's skirt but she pushed him in front of her nonetheless.

"Say hello, Roger." Mrs. Langley's soft tone said.

Jude looked at the boy in front of her, a companion at last; someone to play with while their mothers talked! Jude had never met any other children before this, she only saw the neighbourhood children through the fences of the Heathrow House. They were much too old to play and her mother would never allow her to go out. Meeting Roger was an opportunity Jude couldn't miss. She thrust the crumbling Jammie Dodger in her hand at the boy in front of her and smiled.

Taking the offered biscuit, she saw a smile creeping up his cheeks when he said, "Hello."

In the years to come, Jude would learn how important this friendship would be to her. With her mother being gone and going to Hogwarts alone, she would need as much support as she could get. Roger would be by her side, offering his charming smile and cheesy jokes when putting on a smile felt too much of a bother. They would be there for each other when they receive their first taste of heartbreak and firewhiskey. Roger would even be the one sitting beside her in St. Mungo's on that dreaded summer day when it should've been another as she waited for her name to be called. He would be there to take her home, keeping her standing when the world around her spun too fast.

Roger would be there through everything, until the very last day when everything was the last.

Roger would be there until he could no longer, because she needed him and he cared far too much to say no.

* * *

The morning came too early for Jude when she woke to the racket of her dorm mates. Peeking one eye open she saw that only Cecilia, who was combing her hair in front of the vanity, and Alaius, who was stumbling around the bathroom trying to put on her stockings while trying to keep up a conversation with Cecilia, remained.

Jude closed her eye and sighed.

Another day in the Gryffindor dorms. Another day at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Another day at life.

With a lazy effort, she got up from the warmth of her bed to start getting ready as well.

Cecilia, seeing Jude from the reflection of the mirror jokingly asked, "Sleeping Beauty finally joining us, is she?"

Jude rolled her eyes, used to the girl's fondness of dropping, what she assumed were, muggle references in conversations even if no one knew what she was talking about. She crossed over to the adjoining bathroom to brush her teeth. She weaved around the jumping Alaius, who tossed her a crooked grin as she still hadn't gotten her stockings on, and began her daily routine. It was quick work and Jude soon found herself already walking down to the Great Hall with her dorm mates. When they arrived, they found the remaining people left in their little group of friends already taking up room in the middle of the Gryffindor table. Jude took her designated seat beside Roger who was shoveling an indescribable amount of sausage and eggs in his plate.

"Leave some for the rest of us, Rog!" Charlus Potter teased from across the table.

Roger glared at him as everyone laughed. Amused and hungry, Jude was reaching for some toast when a commotion drew her attention.

"They found it! They found it!" a short Hufflepuff boy said from the entrance of the Great Hall.

"Found what, Marshall?" came from William, who was sat beside Charlus.

"The thing that killed Myrtle!" shouted Marshall.

Silence enveloped the Great Hall for a moment then Jude could no longer hear her own thoughts when people around her shouted in alarm.

"Is he being serious?" asked Alaius, putting down her spoon.

"What do you think did it?" Charlus asked excitedly.

Myrtle had been a third year Ravenclaw who had died only a few weeks ago by an unknown assailant. It had caused chaos when girls who'd just come out of class found her body in the water-logged, first-floor girl's lavatory. Panic and fear had consumed the students of Hogwarts when it was later made known that the cause of death could not be identified by magic. They were advised to not wander the halls if it wasn't absolutely necessary by the Headmaster, Armando Dippet. Ever since then people had taken to walking in small groups wherever they went.

"Who cares? Just as long as they've found it and killed it before it could kill anyone else!" Cecilia's high tone rang out. She had been among one of the girls to discover Myrtle's body. It had caused her to be sick at the sight. A week passed before she was finally able to eat without it coming back up, but even then she would mutter under her breath, which the group could never decipher, and was constantly fidgeting.

_Pity… _Jude thought,_ she was just getting back to normal._

Jude tuned back from her thoughts when a shout rose above everyone else, "Well, go on! Tell us about it, Marshall!"

The noise quickly died down and attention focused on the eerily excited Hufflepuff, "Saw it meself this mornin' just as I was comin' down 'ere. Headmaster Dippet an' Professor Dumbledore comin' out of the dungeons an' guess whos they was escortin' wif them!" he paused and looked around at the eager faces of the students around him, "Rubeus Hagrid."

Shouting was heard once again as they voiced their confusion. "What're you on about? What does Hagrid have to do with this, Marshall?" said the same voice as before.

"Idiots," muttered Roger from beside Jude. "the lot of them."

Jude shot a quizzical brow at Roger, which he promptly ignored, then turned back to the entrance.

Marshall seemed to glare at something to his left and was readying a retort but before he could, Headmaster Dippet entered the Great Hall. Professor Dumbledore was came in after him and trailing along was a familiar Slytherin prefect, though Jude wouldn't know this until he passed by her. Jude watched as he sauntered behind the two professors. When they reached the teacher's table, Tom turned off to sit at the Slytherin table and Jude saw – though she couldn't be sure with the distance between their tables – him smirk. Her eyes flew back to her Head of House hoping to hear any truth to what disrupted her morning, but he was already conversing with the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Galloway.

Jude's confusion grew. Shouldn't they be making some sort of announcement if they really did find who killed Myrtle? Or was the Hufflepuff lying? If he was, didn't that mean the killer was still roaming around Hogwarts? She turned towards Roger, ready to voice her thoughts but found he was already getting up from his seat.

"Where are you going?" she asked him.

Roger took one last bite of toast then turned to Jude, "To the pitch, of course."

"What? Why?" Jude asked above the noise of her fellow house mates getting up from the table.

"Why?" he asked incredulously, "For Quidditch, you nutty! It's time for the House Cup match."

"Oh… that was today?"

Roger chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. Though he really shouldn't be surprise by now, Jude often forgot any facts when it came to Quidditch, whether how to play it or when there was a game going on. He often wondered if she really was the daughter of Janis Heathrow, retired Beater of the British National Quidditch Team. He flashed her a smile and asked, "Yeah, are you coming or not?"

"But what about-"

Roger sighed, "I'm sure if there's any truth to what the Hufflepuff was saying they'd tell us."

"I don't know…" Jude turned to look at the Professors' table, "Maybe we should stay-"

"Jude, it's just some nosey Hufflepuff trying to get attention." He tightened his red and gold scarf, "If the teachers had any information about something as big as the murderer of a student, don't you think they'd tell us by now?" Still, Jude looked uncertain so he tried once more, "Anyway, quidditch. Yes or no?"

They stared at each other. Roger had this talent where he always knew just what to say to convince her of something. There was no point in even trying to come up with an argument anymore, he was preaching to the already converted.

Thoughts cleared of darker issues, Jude thought of what she had planned for the day. She was thinking of just laying out by the lake with her friends or maybe even taking a stroll through the yards, but seeing as they were all planning to watch the match, she would've had to go by herself. Jude remembered how her summer already looked, all alone in that house with no one but her father and some house elves for company. She glanced at the remaining students around her who had resorted to whispering amongst themselves in fear of being reprimanded for their choice of topic. Jude didn't really have many friends in other houses, some as acquaintances she knew from class but that wasn't enough to warrant a full day spent together. It seemed she would end up spending the day alone if she entertained her thoughts much further so she quickly answered him.

"Of course."

* * *

"Jude!"

The music was deafening in the Gryffindor common room. Someone had dimmed the lights to create some form of ambiance but couple that with alcohol and a bunch of teenagers in a celebratory mood, it created a party.

Though Jude sat beside the wireless on full volume, she still heard the booming voice of her best friend. She turned away from the game of strip poker a few of the seventh years were having in front of the fire to see Roger staggering towards her with a bottle of firewhiskey clutched in his hand.

"Hey," he dragged the word out when he reached her, "How _are_ you?"

Jude looked at him, there was a thin layer of sweat on his forehead and his eyes were bloodshot. She noticed that he could no longer support himself as he had one hand on the back of the chair she was sitting on. Blimey, the party had only been going on for an hour! What a lightweight.

"You are _blooded_, mate." She ignored his question.

Roger's brows crinkled, "What do you mean? I'm fine, I'm not bleeding."

Jude giggled, "That wasn't what I meant." She had a little to drink too.

"Oh… well you – "

"Have you guys seen Will?" Augusta Merriewight interrupted, emerging from the mass of dancing bodies in the middle of the room.

Jude looked at her fellow dorm mate, "No, have you asked Alaius or Charlus? Maybe they know. Though, they're probably doing something stupid right now."

Augusta sighed, "Whose great idea was it to give those two alcohol? Merlin knows they'll be expelled before the night is over."

Roger, who was teetering dangerously on his feet, laughed, "I saw Will going off with Amanda Manning."

"What?" Augusta nearly shouted, "When?"

Roger giggled, he was now coming towards the front of Jude's chair and looked like he was about to fall off his feet. A lightweight indeed. "Like… five minutes ago…"

Jude watched as Augusta's face crinkle in worry. Her and Will had been going out since January, a result from the urging of Cecilia, who was convinced that Augusta and Will only bickered and bantered because they were secretly in love with each other. Nevermind the fact that they've been doing the same thing since they met in first year. It created for some awkward moments when Cecilia's not-so-subtle hints were dropped in times when their arguments had gotten a little heated. Jude was powerless in disagreeing though as she, herself couldn't deny the tension – whichever type it may be – that rolled off them when they were into one of their rows.

Augusta glanced at Jude as if hoping for some confirmation that this wasn't true but seeing as she hadn't seen it herself, she averted her eyes to the strip poker match. A nicely muscled seventh year boy had lost his shirt. Jude bit her lip at the sight. Wouldn't do well for a girl to take pleasure in seeing a boy that wasn't her betrothed half naked but who was she kidding? Harry Knight had a body sculpted by the big man upstairs himself. With the firelight dancing off his chest, Jude knew she wasn't the only one that's noticed.

Augusta had a right to worry. Although Amanda Manning was a nice person, she had a tendency to only fancy guys who were already taken. She was infamous among the students as a man-eater, leaving broken hearts in her wake and disgruntled ex-girlfriends fuming. She often said there was something different about boys that girls had already picked out, something in their manner. Jude always thought it was just because Amanda liked to cause a little drama, though she didn't judge, she enjoyed watching from the sidelines. It helped pass the long winter.

"I'll… I'm going to go find–" Augusta stuttered. Her face twisted as if she was on the verge of crying. She was half turned towards the crowd of dancing people when turned back to Jude, "Oh! I forgot to tell you… Levi's looking for you."

Jude stared at Augusta's retreating back.

Levi was looking for her…

_Levi _was looking for _her_…

She could already feel the familiar panic starting to seep into her veins. Jude's heart thudded and skipped at the thought. Flashes of dry summer air, hushed giggles, and the strong antiseptic smell of a blinding white waiting room clouded her mind.

She was about to stand from her seat when a weight brought her back down. Roger had finally decided he couldn't stand any longer and had taken to sitting – not beside her but – on her.

"You're getting heavy there, mate." Jude softly laughed, distracted.

Roger twisted on her lap, he took the hand that wasn't holding the firewhiskey and wound it around the back of her neck. He bent his head down so he was resting his head atop Jude's head, "Shut up."

Jude smiled; her legs were already going numb from Rogers's weight. To save herself from that annoying static pain later, she shuffled them around so that Roger's weight mostly rested on what small space there was left in the chair. This resulted in their legs being tangled together and his empty left hand laying limp on her lap, which he quickly solved by winding their hands together.

Jude was surprise by this sudden display of _touchiness_; Roger wasn't one for showing affection in public, even with his various ex-girlfriends. Jude knew this was only because of the alcohol but still… it was strange. Though she had to admit, her mind had been successfully distracted from anymore thoughts about _him._

"Roger?" she whispered.

She thought he mustn't have heard her above the thundering music even if they were this close as he didn't give her a reply right away.

"Don't go," he finally whispered back, "Don't go to him. Just stay here. With me."

Jude watched the dancing light from the fire shined through the golden liquid of the firewhiskey in his hand. The sudden thought that he was only sitting with her like this because he didn't want her to leave entered her mind; he had positioned himself as if to prevent her from escaping, from running back. Regret weighed her down at the thought that she would even consider it. So close to doing it…

She looked at Roger; his eyes were drooping shut as the alcohol raged in his body. He arched his back, looking for a more comfortable position. He finally found it, his head resting in the crook where her neck met her shoulder, soft breaths brushing her skin. This was her best mate, drunk out of his mind yet still keeping her from making a mistake.

She answered just as quietly, "Okay."

* * *

"Roger? Roger! Are you awake?"

A mumble came from the slumped figure beside her in response. Jude was staring at the dusty, red and gold canopy above Roger's bed. A soft melody was coming from the corner of the room where a record player was spinning, a piano piece from what she could hear. The noise of the party still going on downstairs was silenced as soon as she had dropped Roger on the bed. Aside from the record, the only sound in the room was the whistle of an occasional breeze from the open window above the nightstand.

Jude had finally managed to drag Roger up to his room after he had fallen asleep on her shoulder. That was hours ago. Not wanting to go back to the party where she would inevitably spend the duration sitting in the same chair as earlier, or worse going back to her own room to face trying to sleep when she wasn't even remotely tired, she had opted to stay with him.

Growing bored with tracing the pattern of the tapestry, she had tried for conversation. But seeing as Roger was unwilling to support the other side and talking to herself was one of the first signs of going mental, her eyes rove around the room for another distraction. Jude's eyes had almost made a complete trip around the room when she finally found one.

_Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair _by _Pablo Neruda_ was sitting underneath a golden snitch on the nightstand. Alarmed that Roger of all people kept such a book, Jude picked it up in amazed curiosity. Flipping through the pages she saw glimpse of the original Spanish on one page and English on the other. Stopping on a random page, she came upon a poem titled _Don't Go Far Off_.

Jude looked to her left at Roger whose back was turned towards her. From the even rise and fall of his back, she could tell he had succumbed to sleep. Still, she tried anyway, "Roger?"

Silence greeted back at her. It seemed an omen for what summer would bring; where it was once filled with hope of freedom, it was now filled with absence. And silence. Jude had spent summers without the company of her best mate before and she always managed to find something to pass the time. Whether it be visiting the cinemas or scouring the shelves of _Flourish and Blotts, _she could always find something to fill the long summer days. But that was before; before last summer when everything fell apart. Before, when she could spend days, weeks, months, not having a single thought of that retched day.

She turned back to the book. With absence clawing at her chest, she began to read.

"_Don't leave me, even for an hour, because  
__then the little drops of anguish will all run together,  
__the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift  
__into me, choking my lost heart."_

Her breath shook, "_because in that moment you'll have gone so far  
__I'll wander mazily over all the earth, asking,  
__Will you come back? Will you leave me here, dying?"_

* * *

The next morning came painfully abrupt. Mainly because Jude woke up when Roger's knee jabbed her in the stomach in his haste to get to the bathroom where he proceeded to throw up the remnants of the party. She was cradling her sore stomach when Roger finally came out. He stepped over her body once again, this time being careful, and fell onto his spot beside her in an exhausted heap.

"Alright?" she asked.

Roger coughed, "Yeah, m'fine."

The gentle snore of someone in the dorm was drifting Jude back to sleep when Roger spoke once again, "Jude…"

Jude hummed in question.

"Why are you here?"

Jude snuggled deeper into the warm covers, "Your bed's softer than mine."

Roger chuckled under his breath but didn't say anything more. Sensing like there was something else, Jude opened her eyes and turned to face him. His pale blue eyes were wide awake, surprisingly clear despite the fact that Jude knew he was immensely hung over. They stared at each other, Jude in confusion and Roger with an unreadable expression.

Not being able to take the silence any longer, Jude spoke, "Do you want me to go?"

Roger's brow furrowed, "No."

"Then what's wrong?" Jude feared that her private moment last night wasn't truly private. It was a moment of weakness she hadn't shone in a while. Even if she had known Roger for years, it still didn't lessen the embarrassment she would feel if she found out he had heard her bare her heart. Their friendship was built on trust but both she and Roger were very private and independent people. Roger's failed relationships was a result of this as many ended mostly due to _clingy_ girlfriends. She didn't know want him to know she was afraid of what two months without him would do to her. Jude almost wanted to punch herself for being so stupid as to read the poem aloud. That damned poem spoke her fears so plainly.

Roger furrowed his brow even further. He opened his mouth as if to say something but quickly closed it. He did this twice more until his face finally cleared. Jude's heart thudded against her chest. Then, "Could you get me some Pepper-Up potion from the Hospital Wing? My head is buzzing."

Jude slowly let out the breath she didn't know she was holding. _Thank Merlin. He hadn't heard._ Relieved that she wouldn't be embarrassing herself that morning, she snuggled her head under the pillow. "Go get it yourself! I'm not your house-elf."

She felt a heavy hand land on the middle of her back, "Please?"

"No."

"I'll be your best mate." Roger's husky, sleep laden voice was closer than she thought.

She turned her head towards him all the while still being under the pillow and saw that he had joined her in her position. Even in the dark his eyes were illuminated. "Is that supposed to convince me?"

His eyes crinkled as a smile cracked his face, "Bitch."

Jude came up for air and shook her head in amusement. "Jerk."

She slid down the bed, flexing her legs and reaching up to the headboards. Relaxed from her stretching, she laid on the bed for a moment then kicked out her leg suddenly, catching Roger's shin. "I'm not getting out of this bed before ten and it's only half past eight. I'd go get it myself, mate, if I were you."

Roger groaned a throaty sound that reverberated through her, "You're so ungrateful."

"What?" Jude started.

Roger chuckled as he sat up, "Did I not say it clear enough?"

Jude stared at him incredulously.

"You, Judas Serafina Heathrow," he took his pillow and smacked it against her stomach, though it felt like nothing she still winced, "are an ungrateful little _bitch_."

Jude glared at him and for a moment Roger thought he had gone too far. It'd happened a few times before, the memory of weeks spent in silence were fresh in his memory. She never did like the word. It really wasn't his fault; he'd heard a muggleborn say it to someone and thought it was just another name he could annoy her with. He had his mouth open, ready to apologize when white fluff suddenly hit him square in the face. The pillow fell to his lap but his mouth remained open like a fish.

Amusement was all over Jude's face as she sprang out of the bed and away from the vicinity of his hands. She laughed at Roger's expression on her way to the door.

"I'm looking for a new best mate."

"Good," Jude smirked, "I was getting tired of pretending to be yours."

She heard another pillow hit the door as she made her way back to her own room where she'd undoubtedly spend a few more hours sleeping.


	2. Assertive or a Bitch

**I do not own any of the recognizable characters in this story. They are the property of J.K Rowling, bless her. As for the characters you _don't_ recognize, well they're mine, _bless them. _Any other works such as song lyrics, poems, titles, etc. used are not mine either. They belong to their rightful owners whose names are too plentiful to name. (Also cause I'm too lazy to keep track.)**

**a/n: I don't know. Is this shit? Should I stop? I'm probably not going to stop but it'd be helpful if you tell me what I'm doing wrong and what I'm doing right. Okay. Bye.**

* * *

_A Song of Despair_

**CHAPTER TWO**

Thomas Marvolo Riddle Jr. was an orphan half-blood. That much wasn't quite as obvious as it was during the last day of school. King's Cross station was filled to the brim with jubilant parents waiting for their children who were taking their time saying goodbye to friends. Tom could've easily ignored their beaming faces if they didn't make it impossible for him to make his way to the doors. He knew no one would be waiting for him and was quite eager to make his way to The Leaky Cauldron where a room awaited him. He was of sixteen years and Mrs. Cole – who would never admit it – had heavily implied that he find boarding elsewhere. He had planned of having an evening spent exploring parts of Diagon Alley but by the looks of things, he'd be lucky to get out of King's Cross before sunset.

_These stupid fucking idiots,_ he thought, _if they don't get out of my way soon I'll blast them all to Hell!_

He used his right elbow to discreetly move people out of his way all the while trying to keep his composure. There were important people about picking up their children and it wouldn't do well for him to be seen flustered. Yes, appearances must be kept under the scrutiny of potential business partners.

It seemed like an eternity had passed when he finally saw a clear passage to the clear brick wall leading to muggle London. His feet quickened at the sight and he was only a few feet when his shoulder hit something both hard and soft. He heard a masculine grunt and turned to see that he had hit another boy, who looked to be his age and was now giving him a glare.

Tom raised a brow. He knew it was customary for him to apologize but the glare this boy was giving him caused his pride to rise in defiance.

The boy in front of him scoffed, "Not even going to apologize, mate?"

Tom sighed in annoyance, "No."

He turned back to the exit, dismissing the boy. As he walked away he heard another voice converse with the boy.

"Was that really necessary?"

"What do you mean?" he heard the boy argue, "He hit me and didn't even apologize!"

Tom smirked at what the voice said next, "Honestly, Roger. Grow up."

* * *

Solomon, the innkeeper of The Leaky Cauldron, was an aging old man whose leathery skin wrinkled like raisin. He should have been retired by now but had refused to give up the reins to his son, Tomas, or Tom as he often corrected everyone that knew him. Even if his son had worked in the inn since he was just a boy and spent every free waking hour there, Solomon still saw multiple faults in Tom's business skills.

Tom Riddle shouldn't have known this, nor did he ever want to, but he couldn't help but learn as he observed the father and son duo bicker behind the bar. He was sat at one of the corner booths around the inn where he had taken refuge after Solomon had informed him that his room wasn't ready. His irritation grew the more father and son talked. He touched his palm to his brow, trying in vain to stop the steady throbbing behind his eyes. Going to Diagon Alley was out of the question at this point, so the next best thing was sleep. The throbbing steadily grew to match the pair's voice. It was a pleasant surprise when the grating noise stopped, he looked up.

"Hi."

It was a female student. His age. Here. At The Leaky Cauldron. _Fuck._ It was like he couldn't get away from them.

Tom slid back into the darkness of the booth before she could notice him. There he could observe that it was Jude Heathrow. _Gryffindor_, Tom remembered.

"Evening. May I help you, Miss?" Solomon inquired. Tom, his son, bristled at this.

Her voice was drowned out by an outburst of cackles from a table of witches across the pub.

Riddle frowned, _hags seemed more fitting_.

He turned back just in time to see Solomon hand the girl a key. It seems like he wasn't the only Hogwarts student staying at The Leaky Cauldron. He would have to be careful, from his experience at school, she would call her friends over and soon enough he'll be having his own personal audience. Curious though, with the amount of people at the pub already, there would still be rooms left at the inn, let alone how fast she received a key to one so quickly.

Tom's brow furrowed, he was there first, shouldn't he have gotten…

He was on his feet in a second and at the counter in another, startling a withering old man he suspected wasn't even a wizard at all in the process.

"Excuse me," Tom spoke loudly to gain Solomon's attention. "When will my room be ready?"

Solomon cleared his throat, "In a moment, _sir_."

He said the word as if it was shit under his shoes. Tom knew the old man didn't like him, knew it when he first came when he was eleven. He wasn't sure, but he suspected Solomon subscribed to the pureblood supremacy ideology like most senile witches and wizards these days. Solomon acted like he could smell the status of Tom's blood whenever they met.

Tom's mouth curled back. It was people like Solomon that made him feel murderous; they always acted like they were better than him. _Pieces of shit, they were. _He reached into his pocket for his wand, leaning toward the aging wizard. Irritation from the station earlier, the old wizard's blatant disrespect, and his throbbing headache resulted to a dangerous mix.

"No," Tom practically growled, "It'll be ready now."

Solomon straighten, "Now, you watch your tone, young man. I–"

_Imperio._

Solomon's eyes glazed over and his posture straightened. Tom heard distant pops, _Solomon's spine._ The spell was working.

Solomon held out a key, "Have a nice stay, Mr Riddle."

Tom smirked, "Thank you, Solomon."

Before he departed, he studied geriatric wizard. He knew he should leave, he could get caught, be at Azkaban by the end of the night, but his curious nature couldn't help it. He hadn't been able to perform the curse this well before. Cruciatus, yes, - his quick temper made that easy – but the Imperius curse was… difficult. It required great control and focus, the latter of which was hard to come by with being around hundreds of students and their incessant blunderings. This was the optimal time to study the curse's effects on the victims, it would be a waste to let it go now.

Tom was about to command Solomon again when another body crashed against his own, sending him to collide with the counter. What was it with people and their lack of respect for personal space? It was getting ridiculous and having so many _things _that close felt like swimming in filth. He felt like bathing in acid would be the only way to get rid of the feeling.

These thoughts in mind, Tom looked at the body beside him. It was the girl from earlier, swearing at presumably the one who caused her to collide against him. Tom quickly ended the curse before she could notice.

When she was finally done, she turned back, "Sorry. That arsehole over there's drunker than a– Tom Riddle."

"Yes?" He forced the irritation out of his tone.

Jude just stared at him. _Fuck._ She wasn't one of _those, _was she? They were in the same year and he mostly knew everyone, but he didn't go out of his way to get to know them. What he gathered from his encounters with female students at Hogwarts was that they spent an inordinate amount on personal grooming and they were especially fond of giving him chocolate on Valentine's Day.

Tom inched back fearing what she would do, but Jude just turned to Solomon. Weirdly, there was no one there. She leaned forward across the counter and a shout of alarm rose from her throat.

Tom's posture went rigid. At first he thought Jude had shouted because of him but he saw she wasn't even looking at him. Curious, he leaned forward as well and saw it was Solomon she was looking at who was on the ground clutching his back.

"Fucking hell!" Solomon yelled, gathering the gaze of everyone who could hear.

Suddenly, Jude jumped over the counter and kneeled beside Solomon. A few witches tsked in displeasure, grumbling under their breath about the unladylike act.

"Where does it hurt?" she asked calmly.

"My back!" he whimpered. Tom's lips curled back in disgust.

"You're going to be alright." Jude said calmly. To the pub, she shouted, "Where's Tom?"

At first Tom was confused, thinking she was talking about him but quickly realized she meant Solomon's son. Speaking of, Tom burst forth from the door to the kitchen with presumably the person who had fetched for him.

"Dad, what have you done now?" Tom accused Solomon.

A string of obscenities dribbled out of the old man. Tom pursed his lips at his father, ready to argue back; before he could someone spoke over him.

"We should take him to St. Mungo's." the girl stated, "I've been there, I can apparate him. Can you follow after us?"

Tom shook his head, "I can't apparate, I've never been and our floo is broken."

"Shit. Okay." She looked around the bar before her eyes landed on Riddle. "Riddle, fourth year, you were at the school trip to St. Mungo's right?"

Tom silently groaned, "Fine," he begrudged. "I'll side-along with him."

Jude's eyes turned to slits. She stared at Tom but her face quickly cleared when Solomon groaned again.

"Tom," she addressed Solomon's son, "Riddle will take you."

She only gave Tom a chance to agree before she disapparated from the spot.

* * *

"So…"

"What?"

"We're in the same year, right?"

"I believe so, yes."

"Logically speaking, people in the same year have birthdays in the same year."

"Logically."

"And am I right to assume this applies to you?"

"Why wouldn't it?"

"Is that a yes?"

"It's not a no."

"Riddle!"

"Yes. Why does it matter?"

"It's just…"

"Just what?"

"Howdoyouknowhowtoapparate?"

Silence.

"Tom?"

More silence then, "How do _you_?"

Nervous laughter, "Shut up, Riddle."

* * *

"I hope Solomon will be okay. He probably will, right? I mean, he's a wizard and wizards are stronger than muggles, at least that's what some of the muggleborns in Gryffindor say. I bet he'll be back by tomorrow nagging away Tom's ear. He'll probably last longer than the rest of us. Can you just imagine when you're as old as he now and you come into The Leaky Cauldron and he's right there behind the counter still giving orders to Tom? It doesn't even right imagining The Leaky Cauldron without him. Ever since I could remember, he's been there. I think if we ask some of our parents, they'll probably say the same thing. Maybe I should ask Dad… Oh, but he won't be back for two more weeks! Bugger! Two weeks at The Leaky Cauldron, what am I going to do? I guess I could shop around Diagon Alley, but seriously, who doesn't get bored staying at the same place for two weeks, am I right? Maybe I'll take a floo to Paris, I haven't gone since forth year. I wonder if any of the girls would want to join–"

"Miss Heathrow."

Jude looked to Tom beside her, "Yes?"

"I don't really care." He deadpanned.

Jude smiled, "I know."

Tom tilted his head, "Then why are you–"

"Cause you've been staring at that same spot on the wall for ten minutes, only occasionally blinking every two. I was trying to figure out if you've gone mad or just indifferent."

"And which conclusion have you come to?"

Jude's smile grew, "A little bit of both, I think."

Tom began to open his mouth to reply and he would've if the other Tom hadn't come. He looked haggard, probably from arguing with his father again. Stubbornness seemed to run in the family.

"Hey, you two," The jovial middle aged man said, "Sorry to have kept you. You could have gone back to the inn when the healers took him."

From the corner of his eye he saw Jude shake her head, "It's fine. We wanted to stay."

Tom refrained from saying anything. He didn't even want to come, let alone stay.

"Well, Healer Malcolm fixed the problem with his spine," Jude smiled at that, "now they just want to keep him over night. They don't want him moving around for the next few hours to let the potion take effect."

"That's wonderful, I'm glad he's okay." said Jude.

The older man chuckled, "Right, so both of you can head back to the inn now. Thank you very much for your help tonight."

Tom and Jude stood up to shake his hand and give their welcomes. They were quickly left alone by Tom's departure.

Jude cleared her throat, "Ready?"

Tom raised a brow, "For what?"

"This," Jude took his arm and the world spun.

They landed back into the dingy, dank room of the pub in less than a second, startling a sleepy wizard drooling in his firewhiskey.

Tom tore his arm from Jude and growled, "You had no right to do that."

"Oh, c'mon. It was just a joke." Jude scoffed.

A fire grew in his gut, "You don't even have an apparition license. You could have splinched me!"

Jude crossed her arms, "But I didn't."

His eyes turned to slits, "Has anyone ever told you, you're annoying?"

Her eyes matched his, "They usually just say confident instead."

"More like, domineering." He scoffed.

"Strong-willed."

"Overbearing!"

"Self-assured!"

"Pushy!" he dragged the word out.

"Slytherin!" the word hissed of her mouth.

"Gryffindor!" he roared.

Jude's eyes widened, "I take offense to that!"

He snarled back, "Well, I take offense to your personality!"

"I'm not going to stand here," her jaw clenched, "arguing with you. It was a stupid joke, get over it. I'm tired–"

"_You're _tired–"

"–Yes, _I'm _tired! So I'm going up to my room! Goodnight to you, Tom Riddle."

"You _insolent _bit–"

* * *

Her heart thudded in her chest; she drew in a deep breath. She could feel the fast beating all the way from her toes, to the door she leaned against, 'til the tips of her ears. Clenching her hands in fist, Jude closed her eyes, and her head thumped against the smooth wood door of her room. A second thump sounded from the room next door a second later but she ignored this in favour for the whirling thoughts in her mind.

_Merlin,_ she had just had an argument in the middle of The Leaky Cauldron. With bloody Tom Riddle of all people! She had told him to _shut up_ for goodness sake! Albeit, that part was hours earlier and totally in a different context, but still! She hadn't done something like that in… _fuck, _has it really been two years? And with _bloody Tom Riddle!_

"Holy fuck!"


	3. Letters to Juliet

******I do not own any of the recognizable characters in this story. They are the property of J.K Rowling, bless her. As for the characters you _don't_ recognize, well they're mine, _bless them. _Any other works such as song lyrics, poems, titles, etc. used are not mine either. They belong to their rightful owners whose names are too plentiful to name. (Also cause I'm too lazy to keep track.)**

**a/n: I had some free time and wrote this little chapter. Thought I'd explain why Jude's at The Leaky Cauldron. Constructive criticism is always welcome.**

* * *

_A Song of Despair_

**CHAPTER THREE**

_Dad,_

_Roger's asked me to come with him to Brazil this summer. I said yes. Don't bother sending the elves for my summer clothes, I'll just stop at Gringotts before we leave and get some gold so I can buy clothes there. I'm not sure, but I think we'll be travelling all over the country so I can't really tell you any specifics. I'll write when I can. _

_I promise I'll come back before the end of August so we can go visit Mum together._

_Jude_

* * *

_Dear Mr. Solomon Craine,_

_I'm inquiring about a room for the summer at The Leaky Cauldron. I would like to rent it for the summer beginning June 21__st__, 1944. I am prepared to pay however much the cost._

_Please owl back as soon as convenient._

_Respectfully,_

_Jude Heathrow_

* * *

_Jude,_

_A little warning next time would be appreciated. I'll transfer some more gold to your account so you won't have to worry about money. _

_If anything happens, you can find me here at the house, I cancelled most of my business trips when I still thought you'd be coming home for the summer._

_Be safe._

_Janis Heathrow_

_CEO & Founder of Quality Quidditch Supplies_

* * *

_Dear Jude,_

_Well I'm here. In Brazil, Sao Paulo to be exact. And you're not. _

_I still don't understand why you couldn't go. I mean, I know the invitation came late but I thought it was already implied when I told you about the trip back in May. Now I'm stuck with my Mum and Dad _and _Charlus. Speaking of, the moron's already gotten blind drunk and stripped naked on the beach._

_We've been here less than a week._

_Anyways, aside from Potter's pale arse, Brazil's beautiful. It's so green and luscious over here. The creatures buzz so loudly at night too. Having shared a room with Will for six years, I thought I would be used to the noise but even I had trouble sleeping the first night. I've taken some pictures, which I'll include when I send this. _

_There's another family of wizards sharing the beach with us. They're from Spain, I think. Mum's the only one who's met them but we're having dinner together tonight so I'll tell you about them later._

_That's all really. I haven't done much aside from walk around the beach and this little area behind the house taking pictures. I'll write if more happens._

_Yours,_

_Roger_

_P.S Charlus Potter would like you to know he sends his best and that he did not get blind drunk at the beach on the very first week of summer vacation. Although, if he did, he says it would have been in a very respectable manner. Moron._

* * *

_Roger,_

_Fuck, Roger. _

_You won't believe what happened to me a few of days ago. I had an argument with Tom Riddle in the middle of The Leaky Cauldron! In the middle of the night! I don't even know the bloke! I told him to shut up._

_Oh bugger! I told Tom Riddle, a Slytherin prefect, to shut up._

_Fuck. Shit. Flippin' Hell!_

_That was so rude of me to do! I should go apologize right? But wait, it was like a week ago. I'm exaggerating; it was like two days ago. Do you think it's too late? I saw him a couple of times since then and he refuses to come near me so I think it might be. _

_Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit!_

_I don't want to be a Slytherin target!_

_Fuck I totally screwed up didn't I?_

_J.H_

_P.S. The pictures were beautiful. Although, the one with Charlus' arse was a bit… risqué? _

_P.P.S. A. Slytherin. Prefect._

* * *

_Jude, _

_First of all, what the hell were you doing at The Leaky Cauldron in the middle of the night? You know that place gets dangerous at night. What the hell were you doing at The Leaky Cauldron in the first place? I thought your house was connected to the Diagon Alley floo. _

_Second of all, what was the argument about? _

_Third of all, didn't I tell you the bloke was bad news? I knew it the moment the sorting hat shouted his house name, I knew it at the station when he bumped into me and didn't apologize, and now you know it too._

_Fourth of all, I can't tell you what to do until I know what the argument was about. For now, just staying away seems to be a good idea._

_Fifth of all, Potter got mad at me for sending that picture of his arse to you. He's demanding I give it back, but since you're the only one with the copy, a trip to your Gringotts vault is warranted. _

_Sixth of all, the other wizard family _is _from Spain and they're an old pureblood one too. Mum's having a field day. They have twin sons, ten years old, maybe going to Durmstrang in September, and a daughter our age. I haven't met her yet; apparently she's visiting friends in Rio and won't be arriving for two more days. I heard she goes to Beaubaxton. _

_Seventh of all, I'm running out of things to talk about. Write back soon and this time full coherent sentences would be nice._

_Yours,_

_Roger_

_P.S. Before you lock away that precious picture, do me a favour and make more copies then send it to everyone you know?_

_P.P.S. Yes, Slytherin prefect. Got it._

* * *

_Jude,_

_I assume you haven't written because you're busy having a wonderful time but for my sanity, please do so as soon as possible._

_You know she would want the same thing._

_Janis Heathrow_

_CEO & Founder of Quality Quidditch Supplies_

* * *

_Dad,_

_Yes, sorry. We're having a wonderful time here. I included some pictures._

_Jude_

_P.S. I'd like to think I know what she'd want too._

* * *

_Roger,_

_I forgot to tell you my Dad's away on business so I thought staying at The Leaky Cauldron would be more fun. I didn't want to stay in that house all by myself. He'll be back in a couple of days, so it's not like I'll be here all summer. _

_Also, I tried apologizing. I think I made it worse. I decided to either avoid him completely or just lock myself away in my room which will help with the avoiding and I won't be a walking target. Anyways, what the argument was about isn't important. Besides, I don't think telling you will help your opinions about him._

_I also forgot to ask you this in my last letter, but do you remember that apparition instructor we bribed before fifth year to give us our license? Do you think he does that kind of thing for other people? Because I'll be honest, he seemed a little like he was too used to a couple of fifteen year olds with a bag of gold begging for their license._

_Anyways, can you believe two weeks have gone by already since school ended? We're going to be seventh years in a couple of months. Merlin, that's a scary thought. I don't think I'm ready for it yet. I don't think I'll ever be ready. I haven't even thought about what I'm going to do after graduation. Shit, I always thought I'd have more time. I think Dad wants me to help him with the shop in Diagon Alley but I hardly know anything about Quidditch and the thought of the business end where you work in an office from 9AM to 5PM is nauseating to me. Maybe if he does expect me to work for him, I can convince him to let me handle the overseas project. At least then I could travel. That'd be nice right? Maybe you could come with me? Although, with the muggle war going on atop the Grindelwald situation, I'm not sure he'd let me. _

_It's getting worse over here, I was at Madam Malkin's the other day and The Stationary Shop down the street was attacked! The witch that was working there was taken to St. Mungo's. Apparently, they had to regrow most of her bones. The aurors showed up and ordered everyone to go home. They shut down Diagon Alley down for a couple of days, so I was stuck in my room. They've reopened it again but I've been a little scared to go out. I might just stick it out here until Dad comes back. _

_There's someone knocking on the door so I'll have to end this letter here. I hope you and Charlus are having a good time. Tell me more about Sao Paulo and take more pictures. I'll be waiting for your letter._

_J.H_

_P.S. My sentences are always coherent, thank you very much._


	4. Summer Adventures

******I do not own any of the recognizable characters in this story. They are the property of J.K Rowling, bless her. As for the characters you _don't_ recognize, well they're mine, _bless them. _Any other works such as song lyrics, poems, titles, etc. used are not mine either. They belong to their rightful owners whose names are too plentiful to name. (Also cause I'm too lazy to keep track.)**

* * *

_A Song of Despair_

**CHAPTER FOUR**

Jude ended the letter with one final period, folded it in three neat rectangles, and sealed it within a white envelope. The knocking on her door sounded again as she tied the letter to her tawny brown owl.

"Give this to Roger and don't leave without getting some treats from him, okay?" she whispered to the owl, "Off you go."

The owl flapped its wings turning about to the open window when another three knocks in successive sequence sounded from the other side of the room.

Jude sighed in resignation as tightened the lock to the window. She had hoped the knocker would leave after the first two tries, concluding that she wasn't in the room. She didn't want to see anybody today. But by that thought, she hadn't even told anyone she would be staying at the inn. The only ones who knew she was there were the owners… and Tom Riddle. To the other students she saw in Diagon Alley, she was just another Hogwarts student enjoying at day out shopping. So that raised the question, who was at the door? It couldn't possibly be… no. No way.

She approached the door, carefully stepping over the creaky floorboards. Three loud bangs resonated around the room – and Jude's heart jumped to her throat – as the person on the other side of the door grew agitated. It seemed like they weren't leaving until someone opened the door. She had no choice but to answer if she wanted to have a peaceful afternoon.

With a bravery of a Gryffindor, Jude stalked the remaining steps and threw open the door.

* * *

_She gleamed like Swarovski crystals in the August afternoon sun. _

_His hands ran a smooth trail down her side. His thumb lightly pressed against her skin, making pale half-moon crescents._

_Her breath hitched at the act and she in turn pulled at the ends of his hair. _

_His body arched as he groaned, the sun coming in from the window hit just at the right spot, making fairy lights against the ceiling._

_This was it. This was the moment when they both knew nothing but each other. Ecstasy._

* * *

The sun beaded down on her pale shoulders, turning them a light pink. She could feel sweat dripped down the middle of her back into the folds of her shirt, which were tucked into her skirt as she quickened her pace. Her right forearm throbbed in pain and she could feel a bruise already forming, but she ignored it. Chancing a look back, she saw a dark mop of curls bobbing amongst wizard hats. A lump of guilt made home in her throat as she quickened her pace some more.

He wasn't supposed to be here. He wasn't supposed to know she was here. She had been stupid and careless and now he was here, looking for her. She knew she couldn't lie her way through the summer – hoped – but knew it nonetheless. She just didn't want to go back home to that lonely, desolate house that stopped feeling like home a long time ago. If she'd gone back, she would've spent the summer lazing through the house like a ghost while her father shut himself in his study to work. She wouldn't have anyone to spend the summer with seeing as Roger was in Brazil.

She would've gone with Roger, which was the next option, but it just felt wrong somehow. She had spent a part of last summer at the Langley house and while there felt like an intruder. Mrs. Langley was nice and inviting but the formalities never stopped. She felt like a guest and while to Mrs. Langley, that may have been the goal, to Jude it just felt like an insult. Or maybe not an insult… just something. Roger had been her best friend for the better part of ten years, she would think by now Mrs. Langley would treat her like one of her own. So no, going on a family vacation with the Langleys was not in her best interest.

So instead, she lied. She chose the third option that seemed the best for her. She took up a room in The Leaky Cauldron in secret and lied to the two people that would notice her disappearance. Her goal: to spend the summer exploring parts of the wizarding _and_ muggle world. So far she'd been triumphant in the former. Both wars happening in both worlds have been making it hard though, but she had been taking precautions. Never leaving without making sure she had her wand, only going where there were other people to make sure she wouldn't be attacked on her own, and generally just making sure she was making the right decisions.

She was determined to spend this summer with none the wiser. She had put her faith in the fact that her father would never step foot in Diagon Alley seeing as he had elves do all the shopping, and Roger being in another continent. Unfortunately, she had forgotten the fact that she wasn't the only Hogwarts student spending days in Diagon Alley.

So Jude had been seen. By Levi of all people. Seriously, what were the chances of that? _Bloody flippin' hell!_

* * *

His hand was raised in a fist, mid-knock. A flash of a memory of that same hand on her side, caressing, raced through her mind. His hand fell to his side as he smiled that Levi smile and she felt like her legs had disappeared from under her.

Her breath was stuck in her chest as she stared at him. Him. Levi. Here. Standing in front of her. He was opening his mouth. Why was he opening his mouth? Oh no…

"Hey," his voice still felt like melted caramel, "I knew you were here."

_He knew she was here… _Saliva pooled in here mouth and her breath was still stuck in her chest.

"I saw you down in Diagon Alley a few days ago, after the attack."

Her knuckles were white against the dark wood on the door as her hand unconsciously tightened around the door knob.

"The aurors were telling everyone to go home but I saw you enter The Leaky Cauldron." Levi raised a brow as if daring her to contradict his statement. When more than half a minute went by, he continued, "Jude…"

Shit. Fuck. Bitch. Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck!_

"What are you doing renting a room here?"

"Uh – I – I… um…" she stuttered.

Her chest felt like it was imploding upon her. She finally released a breath and took one in but it felt like she was breathing in acid. The smell of antiseptic waft in her nose and filled her brain with haze. Flashes of babies crying… the squeak of a loose wheel… the judging eyes of a healer…

Jude slammed the door closed. Whether it was on Levi or on the memory, what did it matter? They were one and the same.

Levi's confused shout sounded through the thick wood but Jude was too busy reaching for her wand that lay on the nightstand.

He pounded against the door again, "Jude! Open the door!"

She searched the room for a way out. The door was a no. She could apparate! No, there was spell preventing apparition within the building.

A frustrated groan clawed its way out her mouth. Out! She needed out!

The window. She could climb down to the alley below!

"Jude!" Levi yelled from the other side.

Her heart thudded louder. She couldn't… not again. She tore across the room and used the chair to climb atop the desk. Jude was mid-_Alohamora_ when her foot slipped below her. She had slipped on the papers left from her letters and used her wand arm to stop her fall, banging it against the sharp edge of the desk in the process. But this meant instead of the spell hitting the window, it had hit the door. The click of the lock sounded behind her. Surely her heart couldn't beat any faster! She was half way out when Levi busted in the room.

He only saw the swish of her black skirt then a thud sounded from the alley below.

He might've shouted down at her but she was already around the corner, blending into the mass of shoppers. His impetuous yells were lost in the sea of voices.

Where was that Gryffindor bravery now?

* * *

The Grosvenor was grand in all aspects of the word, only distinguished individuals could grace its halls. The muggles knew it and the witches and wizards knew it, that's why it was popular among pureblooded, aristocratic families to frequent its many luxuries. Jude could remember the many Wednesdays she spent there as a child with her mother where wizards and muggles could not be differentiated from one another for there was only one thing that blurred the lines between the worlds, _money._

But as Jude entered its doors, she saw that the war had spared no one. In its prime, the lobby of The Grosvenor was filled with people, now it seemed like a museum. Only a few people milled about, sitting together in huddle groups on deep red velvet couches. As she made her way across the black and white marble, she mentally slapped herself in her choice of refuge. Levi's family, like her own, frequented the hotel. If she wanted to hide from him, she should've chosen a venue he knew not of. But as her stomach rumbled, she decided to risk a quick getaway for some lunch.

She was taking in the elegant statures of the place when she reached the maître d'. She stopped a few feet short behind the person before her.

"My apologies, monsieur, but I don't have your name written down for a reservation."

"I didn't make one."

"Then I cannot let you in."

"I only need to talk to someone eating inside. I don't intend to have a meal here."

"I'm sorry, Monsieur. I cannot let you in."

"It will only take a second!"

"It is final, Monsieur." The maître d' firmly stated. The petite man stepped around the broad shoulders of the young man. "Bonjour, Mademoiselle Jude!"

But Jude had frozen. Hearing the heated conversation, she had recognized the voice of the man in front of her. She could feel Tom Riddle's cold glare burning a hole through her. This day just kept on giving.

"Bonjour, Monsieur Jacque." Jude breathed out.

"It 'as been so long since you have visited moi!" The man teased.

Jude felt her ears redden. Tom Riddle was still staring at her. Why wouldn't he stop staring?

"Apologies." _Stop staring! _"I'm sorry, I'm afraid I haven't made reservations either."

She stepped closer to Jacque, daring to go beside Riddle, hoping he would finally stop. But as she reached the spot beside him, she only felt his stare shift to the side of her head. Jude could feel his stare raking down her body. _Bullocks! Why was this so embarrassing?!_ She wasn't in the wrong. She was only there for a spot of lunch. The 'argument' a few nights ago was just a momentary blip in sanity. Yes, her pride was bruised when he refused to acknowledge her apology the day after, but she had gotten over it. She had! What did it matter what he thought? They didn't know each other. They were strangers that just had the misfortune of being thrown into an unfortunate situation together. Strangers that went to the same school and shared a few classes. He was a stranger that walked in on a private moment and she was a stranger that volunteered him for something he had no intention of being a part of. They were just strangers that shared a secret of underage apparition. They were strangers to each other. Nothing more.

She met his gaze, confident once more.

His eyes… winter suns… Strangers. Just strangers.

Jacque's joyous voice broke through, "Mademoiselle?"

Jude slowly peeled her eyes away from his to face the round man who'd known her since she was little. Her cheeks had just faded back into their normal colour when she realized Jacque had caught her staring down Tom in what seemed to be a very intimate moment – though she'd never admit that to herself – and they flared up once more.

"Apologies," Jude stammered, "I haven't made a reservation as well. I think I'll just go."

"Yes, you've said so already, but as I pointed out, my dear, there is always a place for Mademoiselle Jude." Jacque burst, "Come, come!"

Jude's eyes widened and she felt Tom's narrow, "No, I can't possibly–"

But the maître d' had already left his station and was making his way to an empty table. Jude swallowed down the lump of guilt as she hesitantly took a step after the colourful man. She could still feel his stare – it had never left the side of her face, burning a hole the size of London through her. She felt guilt at the fact that The Grosvenor hotel felt like a second home. At the wealth her family possessed. It was unfair knowing there were people starving while she ate at a five star restaurant for lunch. It was unfair and she'd never felt more like filth than when he stared at her.

"Have lunch with me?"

It was a shock to her as it was to him – though he hid his better.

"You don't have to take pity on me–" He scowled.

"I'm not!" she quickly denied, "I… want you to…"

He raised a brow, "You want to–"

"Yes."

"No."

Her eyes found his again, holding it with mustered confidence. "Swallow your goddamn Slytherin pride and have lunch with me."

He said nothing back, defiant. They stood in a silent game of dominance as the world turned around them. She knew he needed a way into the restaurant and he knew she knew. It was only the matter of when his pride would break. Tom remained stoic as he stepped around her into the dining hall and she knew she had won this round. Hiding a smirk she followed quickly behind.

They were halfway to an awaiting Jacque when Tom suddenly stopped. Jude, behind followed suit. He was staring at a table near the window where an aging couple and their son were sitting. They had the aristocratic aura of old money proven by their expensive clothes. Jude appreciated the beauty of the younger man but was confused at the sudden hit of familiarity. As far as she knew, she had never met these people in her life. Maybe they were regular guests at the hotel as well and she had just seen them in passing…

"He's quite handsome," Jude casually addressed Tom. "Do you know him?"

"Yes," Tom muttered back, "He's my father."

* * *

**a/n: Levi makes Jude crazy. Why? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ **

**Anyways, thanks so much for people who've subscribed, favourited and reviewed! I'm sorry its been so long but school has started and I just couldn't figure out how to write this chapter. Two and three were just quickies after finishing the first one and that took me about half a year to publish cause I wasn't sure if my writing was good enough to be read - I still don't but I'm working on it. I really want to be consistent with the quantity and quality of these chapters so you might find that the updates could be spaced between a week to a month. I promise that if you stick with me through this journey, I can make it worth your while.**

**I hope you've enjoyed this chapter!**

**To Louise: The matter of Jude's mother will be addressed in time. **


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